


Gifts From the Heart

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M, The Sentinel Secret Santa 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: Blair looks for the perfect Christmas present for his roommate.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Comments: 17
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2020 'The Sentinel Secret Santa' - Gift Exchange





	Gifts From the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiredancer (SallyJ)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyJ/gifts).



> This was done for the Sentinel Secret Santa.  
> Happy Holidays Sally J

“So, Blair,” Marion stated. “What are doing for your gorgeous roommate for Christmas?”

Blair glanced over at Marion Phelps, a fellow teaching assistant. “Gorgeous?” he asked, as the petite blonde sat beside him in the Rainier University cafeteria.

“Absolutely,” she answered in a dreamy voice. “Those muscles and those blue eyes are to die for.”

“You know I have blue eyes too,” Blair pointed out and Marion laughed, knowing Blair was not serious and not jealous. They had been friends for years but both knew instinctively their relationship was not a physical one.

“And your eyes are beautiful,” she agreed before picking up her coffee cup and taking a sip.

“But?” Blair asked in mock exasperation. 

“But nothing,” she answered. “You’ll make someone a good husband someday. Male or female,” she added quietly with a wink of her eye. 

Marion was one of very few people that knew Blair had dated both sexes in the past. When he had first arrived at Rainier, most of the girls had ignored him; after all, what eighteen year old girl wanted to date a “child” of sixteen? So, his companions tended to be male and he had experimented, enjoying the experiences. Later, as he came of age, he discovered he enjoyed female companionship too. He had kept pretty much to female companionship after that. He knew, while Rainier was accepting of alternate lifestyles, there were some deep seated prejudices among some of the senior staff and, unfortunately, they were usually the ones that gave out the grants and jobs.

Thinking over recent events, Blair decided it had been a good thing he had dated girls of late. Six months ago, he had met his current roommate – Jim Ellison. Blair had, sort of, invaded Jim’s life after discovering Jim was a sentinel – a person with five heightened senses. Somehow Blair suspected that Jim, an ex-covert ops army ranger and now detective with Major Crimes, wouldn’t want to explain to fellow cops he had a bi roommate. Police tended to be less accepting of alternate lifestyles among their own ranks and Blair did not want to be responsible for Jim being alienated from his colleagues. 

Blair gave a sigh and shrugged, coming back to the conversation at hand. “I’m not sure what I’ll do for Jim for Christmas. I don’t have a lot of money to spare but I don’t want to go cheap, especially after he took me in when my place blew up. And I’d hate to embarrass him by giving him a gift if he doesn’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Could you get something for the place where you are living? A kind of a gift for both of you?”

“The place could use some decorating,” Blair admitted. “Jim is something of a minimalist when it comes to decorating. Plants and a few throws would help make the place more inviting but I’d really like something more personal.”

“I have an idea. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

Not understanding the change in direction the conversation was taking, Blair answered, “Jim’s working but afterwards is going to his boss’ house. I’m invited, too. We’re taking mashed potatoes and baked butternut squash.” Blair gave a chuckle. “I’m making both while he’s at work.”

“Do you even know how to make baked butternut squash?”

“I’ve never made it,” Blair admitted. “But how hard can it be to make?”

Marion laughed. “It’s not that it’s hard to make. It’s hard to cut and peel. Make sure you have a sharp peeler. Anyway, why don’t you bring the question of Christmas up at Thanksgiving? It is when people start talking about Christmas. I’m sure you can get around to the question of celebrations and gifts.”

Blair nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea. I can go at it from a cultural point of view.”

Marion nodded her agreement. “It will help you figure what to do. Just keep your ears open and steer the conversation where you want it to go.”

Blair smiled in response. “I think your idea just might work. Thanks.” 

###

The next couple of days passed very quickly both at the university and at the PD. Blair, dividing his time between the two, discovered helping Jim use his senses to hunt down criminals was sometimes easier than hunting down food. Finding the desired organic produce was easy enough but sometimes you had to fight with other shoppers and stand on long lines to get what you wanted. Blair tried to think of the lines and shoppers as an observable cultural phenomenon, but the idea soured very quickly when the three people in front of him on the line all wanted to pay by check and not one of them had the proper ID. Even the cashier seemed exasperated when the third lady looked over and said, “Check.” It was with some relief that Blair finally escaped the market and made his way home.

Coming into the loft the evening before Thanksgiving with two large butternut squashes, maple syrup, brown sugar, and butter, Blair glanced at the countertop where a bag with five pounds of potatoes in it sat awaiting him. He had gotten a recipe from his mom for butternut squash and a recipe from a friend whose family owned a restaurant for make ahead mashed potatoes and was considering doing both so he could be with Jim the next day. 

“Hey Sandburg,” Jim called out from the loft bedroom above. “How about I order some Thai for dinner? I know it’s my night to cook but I’m worn out.”

“Hi Jim,” Blair called up. “Hard day?”

“Meetings,” Jim grumbled coming down the stairs and looking at the assorted groceries on the counter. “Meetings with DA are the worst and she was trying to wrap up a lot of stuff before Thanksgiving.”

Blair nodded. “I think ordering in is a great idea. I was thinking of making the potatoes and squash tonight. That will free me up tomorrow to help you out.”

Jim gave Blair a dazzling smile in answer and then went to the drawer to pull out menus and place the order. Finishing, he came back and glanced over the butternut squash. “I think I have a machete in the basement,” he indicated the two very large squash. 

“A machete? Don’t you think that would be a bit of overkill?”

“I guess you’ve never tried cutting a butternut squash,” Jim answered. “I got stuck doing it as KP duty in the army once.”

“KP duty? What did you do that got you into that kind of trouble?”

“I am…that is…I…oh hell, I stole my Sargent’s underwear and hung them on the flagpole.”

“Why?”

“He had a thing about boxers and constantly inspected and harped on everyone about having clean boxers but his…” Jim shook his head. “I might have gotten KP duty for a week but he never bothered me about my underwear again.”

“Okay, I could see that. But still, a machete?”

Jim glanced at the butternut squash. “Go ahead, cut it.”

Blair picked up his knife and stabbed the butternut squash and pushed down with all his weight trying to cut the squash in half. The knife went in but not through the squash and when he went to pull the knife out and reinsert it, it didn’t come out. Pulling up hard didn’t work, the knife and squash came up together almost hitting him in the head. Putting the squash, still with knife embedded, back down on the cutting board, Blair started to put a hand over the knife but at that point, Jim stopped him. “Before you lose a finger, let me do this,” he pushed Blair aside and started wiggling the knife to loosen it from the squash. After a few tries Jim pulled it free and then, turning to one of the drawers in the kitchen, pulled out a large cleaver. Eyeing the squash, he swung down slicing straight through the squash with a resounding smack. “It’s all yours,” Jim said with a satisfied grin.

Thinking both sentinel sight and his previous cut played a part in the squash getting cut, Blair nonetheless smiled. “Thanks, man,” and he began scooping out the seeds. “I’ll peel this, chop it up, and bake it with butter and brown sugar.”

“You do know it is a little harder to peel than a potato,” Jim answered, watching as Blair pulled the potato peeler from the draw.

“Yeah, yeah.” Blair began peeling and then the peeler slipped. “Damn,” Blair drew back his hand.

“You do know you are supposed to peel the squash, not your skin,” Jim answered, taking the peeler from Blair and making quick work of the squash.

“How long did you say you were on KP duty?” Blair asked, watching Jim.

“A week and they made me do all the peeling.”

“I guess that’s part of being a well rounded soldier,” Blair said as he began chopping the squash. Thankfully, cut in half it was a lot easier to work with.

“I suppose,” Jim agreed, watching Blair for a moment. Satisfied that Blair wasn’t going to kill himself, Jim ordered their dinner and turned to the television.

Blair’s make ahead recipes worked out and so, the next day, Blair joined Jim at the station and they spent the day reviewing Jim’s cases before swinging past the loft to get the food and heading to Simon’s.

At Simon’s house, while having dinner, Blair brought up the subject of Christmas. “Does Major Crimes do anything special for Christmas?” he asked as he cut up a piece of turkey.

“The police department works twenty-four seven,” Simon answered. “Criminals don’t stop being criminals simply because it’s Christmas. So, unless it’s your normal day off, you work.”

“No holiday parties?”

“Rhonda sets something up in the office. A luncheon, no alcohol,” Simon warned. “I know of a captain who got fired for serving a champagne punch on New Year’s Eve.”

Blair nodded his understanding. If an officer got involved in something and it was discovered he had been drinking there could be big problems. “I get that, but what about outside of work? Jim, what do you do?”

“I usually cover the early shift for someone with little kids but other than that, nothing really.”

“Okay,” Blair nodded, “but what about gifts? Do you get Simon cigars? Does he get you fishing lures?”

“I always get something for Rhonda,” Jim answered. “And yeah,” he added with a smile. “I get Simon cigars.”

“But I don’t always get Jim lures,” Simon pointed out. “I’m far more imaginative.”

“Yeah, he got me a fishing reel once,” Jim laughed. 

“And I got you a rod another year.”

Blair shook his head laughing. “So, what does Christmas morning look like for you, Simon?”

“Joan and I share Daryl. I get him Christmas Eve and he spends the night and we share a Christmas breakfast before he goes to his mother for dinner. A lot of the time I’m working anyway.”

Blair nodded and turned. “Jim, what does your Christmas morning look like?”

“Pretty much like any other morning. When you live alone, you do what you normally do.”

“You’re not going to be alone any longer,” Simon pointed his fork at Blair. “You’ve got a roommate though I imagine you celebrate Hanukkah.”

“That’s right,” Jim turned and eyed Blair. “What would you like on Christmas morning, Sandburg? Or is it just Hanukkah?”

“As an anthropologist I celebrate everything, and a big breakfast would be good.”

“We could do that,” Jim agreed.

No closer to knowing what to get Jim or whether to get Jim anything, the next four weeks sailed by. On the final day of the semester, after the anthropology party, Blair sat in a coffee shop with his friend Marion Phelps. “Blair, what did you finally get Jim?”

“I haven’t yet.”

“You do know Christmas is two days away?”

“Yeah, and we are having a big Christmas morning breakfast. I still haven’t thought of something to get him.”

“Why don’t you buy two things? Something small or something for the place and something larger. You could always return one of the things.”

“Something for the place seems so impersonal.”

“Maybe, something that would help Jim relax,” Marion suggested. “Something to take away the ugliness of his job.”

Blair glanced at Marion and gave her a big smile. “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “I think it’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay, what exactly are we talking about?”

“Something to soothe the senses after a stressful day,” Blair answered finishing his coffee. “I better go. I have some shopping to do.” Standing, he gave her a kiss and headed out. 

###

Christmas morning dawned cold but clear and Blair was up early making bacon, omelets, and potatoes when Jim came down the stairs. “Morning Chief, Merry Christmas.”

“Hi Jim,” he greeted as Jim walked over to the coffeepot. 

“Anything I can do to help with this courtship meal?”

Blair laughed at the statement, wishing it were true, before indicating the toaster. “You could butter the toast.”

“I’m on it,” Jim agreed grabbing the butter before saying with his back to Blair, “Sandburg, I have to work, but if you want, we could go out for dinner tonight. My treat, somewhere nice. I know Gino’s does a special Christmas meal. ‘I made a reservation a few days ago.”

“That sounds great,” Blair brought the food to the table as Jim joined him. 

Taking a seat, Jim glanced at Blair. “I bought you a present, Blair. Just something small.”

Blair laughed. “I got you something too. How about we open gifts after breakfast?”

Jim nodded and dug into the food. Twenty minutes later, sated, Jim went upstairs and came back down carrying a small package wrapped in gold and red foil. Handing it to Blair, he took his seat as Blair carried in five boxes from the bedroom – each box wrapped in a different colored paper. Lifting an eyebrow at the number of boxes, Jim said, “Um, Chief, how many gifts are we talking about?”

“They are all small, Jim,” Blair promised, handing him the boxes. “Why don’t you open the blue one first?”

Jim did and held up a small candle.

“It’s made for people with sensitive noses. It purifies the air to reduce smells.”

Jim sniffed it and smiled. “It smells good,” he commented.

“Open the green one,” Blair pointed. Jim did and held up a soft chenille blanket. “It’s super soft to make your bed more comfortable. Open the red one,” Blair, though sitting, seemed to be jumping in his seat. Jim smiled at Blair’s excitement and opened the red one pulling out a piece of stained glass. “I thought you could hang it on the window and let the sunlight reflect through it. With your vision it would be amazing. Open the silver one.” Jim did and pulled out a small stick that when he turned it over sounded like rain. “It’s a rain stick. It’s supposed to help people relax. Open the gold one.” Jim did and held up a small bottle. “It’s a spice mix I made for you. It will flavor things without overwhelming your senses.” Jim looked at the five considerate gifts spread out across the table and then at his roommate.

“Open my gift, Blair,” he said and Blair, who in all the excitement had forgotten Jim had even gotten him a gift, reached down and opened the small box. Inside was a silver chain and hanging from the chain was a wolf charm. Pulling it out of the box, Blair held it up and smiled. “I’ve been told that the wolf is a symbol for a teacher and you are my teacher.” Jim glanced again at the packages and then at Blair. “I thought tonight’s date would be part two of my gift.”

“Date?” Blair questioned.

“If you are interested,” Jim answered.

“I’m interested?” Blair said, breathlessly. “I’m real interested.”

Jim stood. “I need to get to work but,” he reached over and caressed Blair’s cheek, “I’ll be home by six. Tonight I think our lives are going to change, for the better.” As Jim said this, he leaned down to run his lips across Blair’s in a soft kiss.


End file.
